Not Ever Man Lives
by Waveripple
Summary: Three months ago, while painting a proposal, Alfred fell from the top of the town water tower and died. Three months ago, Arthur lost his most important person. Three months ago, Arthur's life went to the dogs. Now, today, Alfred came back.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Not Every Man Lives**

**Rating: T for minimal swearing other such things**

**Summery: Three months ago, while painting a proposal, Alfred fell from the top of the town water tower and died. Three months ago, Arthur lost his most important person. Three months ago, Arthur's life went to the dogs. Today, Alfred came back.**

**Shippings: USUK, mainly, with undertones of DenNor and PruCan.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, location, ect, hereby in unless otherwise stated. **

**Other notes: Based on a line from Jason Aldeen's song "Not Every Man Lifes"**

—

_As hateful and selfish as it sounded, sometimes I am gratefully Alfred never got the chance to finish that sentence…_

Will you marry me, A

_Those four words, a letter, and then a large splatter mark, all in bright red paint, on the highest point in our little town, the white and yellow, tub-shaped water tower. The one place not only me, but everyone else in the bloody town, would see it. _

_He just had to be so showy, had to make such a big deal about it. He must have thought it was romantic, or maybe he just wanted to see me turn the same color as the paint that fell from the top of the tower. If only that _git_ had just pulled me aside to ask me that, at least then I could slap him._

_A text, a butchery of the English language, that said simply 'com 2 h2o twer iggy asap' should have been the first clue something was not right. _

_I arrived to flashing lights, to a crowd of people, to students and teachers who just arrived before the sun completely rose, idling about, to the police and even a state trooper. Troopers never come unless something really bad happened. The last time I'd even seen one was when Ivan's insane guardian had a break down and held our fifth grade class hostage. _

_None of us have been quiet right after that. _

_That was about the time Alfred started to cling around me, now that I think about it._

_I bobbed through the mass. I heard tidbits of conversation while looking for Alfred._

"_I can't believe…"_

"_The family…"_

"…_such a nice boy."_

"…_up there, do you think?"_

"…_will be missed…"_

"…_who 'A' is?"_

"…_would have said 'yes'?"_

_I paid them no mind; it's just the idle gossip the naturally accompanies big events in small towns. _

_Finally I saw a familiar head of hair. _

_Francis, to be honest, I could not stand him. He was a fool and flirt, but it would not be strange if I asked him. He knew about Alfred and me. Aside from Al's twin, Francis was the only other._

_I tapped his shoulder, asking if he'd seen Alfred at all. _

_Something twisted in my stomach at his face, so sad and void. Francis simply stared, his eyes misted over. A mixture of sorrow and pity. The knot tighten. Something was wrong, very, very wrong._

_I repeated his name. After a moment, Francis opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a silent parting of the crowd. As they did, I wondered if Moses and the Israelites were silent as Red Sea parted for them. _

_Two men pushed a stretcher on wheels, solemn looks on their faces. The silence broke after the men and stretcher pasted. More tidbits floated to my ears. This time, I paid attention._

"_Such a nice boy."_

"_His family, Gosh, I feel so sad for them!"_

"_I wonder who the girl was?"_

"_He was too young for this."_

_Everything around me blurred, save for the men and the stretcher between them. The closer they came, the less of them I saw. The only thing I saw was the stretcher, then the person on it, then the blanket thrown over him. It was pulled up above his eyes, covering his face, so only a lock of blond hair sticking out._

_The men, stretcher, blanket, _he_, passed._ _ The world wobbled; my knees crumbled behind me. Before everything went dark, I saw the water tower. I saw the splatter of red paint, the four words, the letter…_

Arthur blinked out of his daydream, or maybe day-mare. Day-Memory, he decided to call it. He had them often. Even three months after the event, he still couldn't shake it. Maybe it was time to talk to the consular.

He shook the thought off. No. No way. Then more people would know about….them. No more people need to know about them, their relationship. The rumors flew almost the second the funeral ended. Some girls noticed how longer Arthur lingered at the casket, and that he'd left a rose at the grave after he thought everyone else had left.

The rumors spread like wildfire.

The 'A' name Alfred never got to finish writing must have been Arthur's, they claimed. Arthur and Alfred had been spending a lot of time together, and now people started claiming they had seen them at movies and sitting a little too close during the home games.

Arthur never confirmed the rumors, though he never denied them, either.

It seemed that everything Arthur did nowadays just added to the mill.

That's why he decided not to do anything.

He quit the occult club first, after he overheard some of the members whispering about using black magic to bring Alfred back or contract him in the afterlife. The newspaper and honors band soon after. There wasn't a point in staying after school for them anymore.

But that just seemed to incriminate him even more. Even among the faulty, long stares were throw his way. The teachers were starting to believe the rumors now, but not the silly dating rumors. The darker rumors. The ones no soul dared to even say around him, or even speak louder than a whisper.

It was all his fault.

The darkest rumor, the truest rumor.

No matter how many times he told himself he had no way of knowing that Alfred planning to do…that. It was not his fault. This is Fate, he can't escape it if he wanted to…

But then that little devil on his shoulder would appear, a tiny smirk on his lips. He would stroll across Arthur's shoulder and leaned on his elbow against Arthur's ear and speak, so convincingly, so smoothly, it could not be anything but truth.

It was all Arthur's fault. Arthur could have avoided the relationship, ignored Alfred's advances, and pushed him away when he pulled Arthur aside and kissed him, but no. Arthur just had to play coy, had to kiss him back. He was such an idiot.

The bell rang, banishing the devil. Arthur picked up his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. It was time for the worse class of the day on the worse day of the week. PE on Thursday.

—

One of things Alfred would always be remembered for, besides his unhappy ending, was that he had the fastest lap time ever. Where it took an average student about five to seven minutes to run all the way around the school at a comfortable pace, Alfred could do it at two and a half flat.

It amazed the coach, who all but forced Alfred to join track. It annoyed Arthur, who knew all the attention would make Alfred's head even bigger.

Long ago, Arthur decide the coach was nothing but a sadist who enjoyed watching teenagers nearly puke from fatigue as he made them run laps around the school. Personally, Arthur could make the lap in four minutes on a good day, but that was before the event.

Whenever Arthur came close to the final turn, he would stop. The shadow of the water tower loomed in front of him like a black snake, daring Arthur to continue. He would grit his teeth, tell himself just to go, but his feet would remain planted.

Finally, when he had but only a minute left before the coach wrote his grade down as an F for not completing the laps, a stray cloud would cover the shadow and Arthur would run as fast as his legs could carry him across the clouds path.

Arthur neared the dreaded turn. He glanced behind him. Sometimes he would run through the shadow with a group, tagging along at the end, but there was no gaggle of gossipy girls behind nor in front of him this time.

He swore. One more F and he would have to retake PE. That was something he would not stand for. Shutting his acidy green eyes, Arthur took a breath and bolted.

He'd just run through.

_It is just a shadow; it is just a shadow; it is just a shadow._ He told himself over and over, running with his eyes clamped shut. If he didn't see it, it wasn't there.

The sound of the wind in his hair and the cries of little children playing in the playground carried to his ears. The sun warmed his exposed forearms and legs. He relished the feeling and attempted to memorize it for the next time his body was gripped by icy cold.

The next time came faster than he thought it would.

Arthur's limbs froze. His eyes slipped open. His breath caught in his throat.

The blond stood in the middle of the water tower's shadow. Instead of jumping over the snake, he had been swallowed by it. His legs shook slightly and he felt all the warmth drain from his body.

Slowly, as if his body was acting on its own, Arthur turned towards the water tower.

They had long since painted over the letters and there was no sign that someone had ever lost their life other than the fence now encircling the base of the tower to prevent people from climbing up the ladder.

It looked like it had before the event—well, almost.

His legs nearly gave out at the sight on the tower. Outline in white was a person. Even though he could not see his feature clearly, Arthur knew that body anywhere. The way he held himself, the shoulders, the way he leaned against the water tower, it all screamed…

"Alfred?" The name slipped from his lips so easily, too easily. The person on the water tower seemed to heard the name and move his gaze to Arthur.

"_Arthur! Ten seconds!"_ The coach yelled. When Arthur turned his gazed back to the water tower, he was gone. He shook his head, and ran off. Nothing but mind tricks, he told him.

Nothing, but mind tricks…

—

**Hello, everyone. This is my first fic on this account—lucky you, right? Ha-ha, jk. Ugh, I started writing this fic, like, wow, last summer? Well, I decided, in remembrance of my old account, I would post a story I was finished with first (and I like to be very far ahead in a fic before I post it anyway, just because). So, you guys are lucky, you needn't worry about me having to write it—just having to POST it...if my long comic (still ongoing, but finished) is any indication, you're screwed either way, ha-ha...^^;**

**R&R, if you want. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

_I looked up at him, growling. "You git. I thought you were going to try to beat that silly record of yours today."_

_Alfred frowned. "Yeah, but, you're bleeding. You know, priorities?" He gesture to the scarlet liquid oozing from my knee. I winced. I was not sure just how the tumbled occurred. I think I tripped over a hole created from a displaced rock, or maybe over someone's foot. _

_All I knew was one moment I was jogging, the next I was falling. _

_Alfred leaned down. He reached his hand forward towards my wound hesitantly, then paused for a moment, looking up at me. I gritted my teeth and nodded. I bite down hard on my lip as he pulled some of the bigger rocks from the gash. Crimson stained his fingers. I felt a pang of guilt. I should ask him to stop, right? _

_I opened my mouth, but the words didn't come. _

"_There." He said, wiping his fingers on his shorts. "Let me help you stand, Arthur." Alfred grabbed my arm and tugged me to my feet. I grimaced when I put weight on the leg. _

Bare the pain, bare the pain_, I told myself. As I learnt about two step later, Alfred did not ignore my grimace. He came from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist. I blushed. _

_Stupid git! _

"_What are you doing?" I demanded as he positioned me bridal style in his arms. _

"_Taking you to the nurse…?" He said it so nonchalantly, like he did this all the time. Actually, with his 'I'm the HERO!' attitude, it wouldn't surprise me in the least. Instead of struggling, I sighed and leaned his head against Alfred's shoulder, muttering loudly about him being stupid and how I could have walked myself._

_Near the turn I would one day come to dread, Alfred stopped. He looked around then walked towards the wall. Carefully, he set me down._

"_What are you are you doing?"_

"_You're reputation would be ruined if I carried you, right?" He leaned down so his face was inches from mine. "Besides, I really wanna do this." Before I could speak, he pressed his lips against mine._

"_Arse." I muttered once freed. "If anything saw us—"_

"_Yeah, yeah. I'd get 'fagot' written on my car and locker and probably be kicked off the team." He smiled that goofy smile and looked up. "It'd be worth it."_

_I sighed, hobbling away. "You stupid git." _

_I was smiling._

—

Arthur tossed his bag onto his bed and collapsed. Thursday down, the one day of the week to go. Yippee.

"Arthur-jerk!" His little brother Peter shouted opening the door. "I'm hungry."

"Go find something. I'm not cooking right now."

Peter stuck out his tongue. "Like I want your cooking. I just need you to reach the crackers on the top shelf."

Without raising his head, Arthur lifted his hand and pointed to the chair by his desk then jabbed his pointer out the door. Peter, getting the message loud and clear to use a chair to retrieve his treat, shut the door. He looked back at the door with a frown.

Jerk-thur use to be fun to tease. Now…he was a bore, always moping. Peter wondered if it had to do with Alfred. Arthur would always perk up when Alfred was around. Maybe he should invite…oh…right. He couldn't invite Alfred over anymore.

Maybe he'd called Francis to come over and—

_BAM!_

He heard Arthur yell.

So, no Francis.

Peter bit his lip. Sometimes, when Arthur had a bad day, he would go on a small rampage which usually involved shouting and the throwing of books. Rarely did they last more than an hour and they almost never left his room, but if they did, it was never pretty.

Making a split second decision, Peter darted down the hall to the kitchen. He picked up a pen and wrote "I went to Ravis' or Katlyn's **(*)**. I'll be home later, Mummy. Peter." Without regard for the crackers he so wanted, Peter shouldered his bag on and left the house—and his brother.

—

Arthur slowly picked up the book, dusting it off. Today was not one of his better days, he will admit. Usually he could put on a scowl and muddle through the day with little to no interaction with anyone.

But that sight, that mind trick, on the water tower, it brought up emotions Arthur had been trying very hard to suppress. Feelings of deep sorrow, guilt, love, and remorse. Then, once those feeling break down the dam, the 'what ifs' flood in.

What if Arthur had gotten to the water tower sooner? What if he had texted Alfred back 'you'd better not be doing something stupid!'? What if Alfred hadn't fallen? Would he have said yes, in front of all those people? Would they have had a big wedding or a small one or maybe drive to Las Vegas?

All the 'what ifs' that will never happen.

He felt like he was drowning in it all. A hand gripped his throat and squeeze, draining the life from him. It was at moments like that all the emotions attempted to escape at once, and he just couldn't control himself.

He yelled and screamed, threw things, generally made his room look like a war zone. Once he let the dam burst and all the excess emotions has passed, he was set for the next few weeks.

He ran a hand through his hair and set the book on the shelf. Arthur crouched down to pick up what he assumed was his math homework (it tended to be the first crumbled up and thrown). "Stupid git."

"Wow, Iggy, not nice at all."

Arthur jolted. Only one person every called him 'Iggy,' a name he received after that someone learned what 'England' was in Japanese from Kiku Honda. Arthur couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He was froze on the ground with his hand inches form a paper ball.

"Lemme get that."

Arthur could see his feet. His eyes traveled to the knees, arms, torso…then face.

"Hmm? Artie? You're really pale." Alfred laughed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

**I so made that pun! Cx Ah, I'm awful, but I did write this whole chapter in one night, from about 6 pm to 11:30 pm. Ah, Summer, how wonderful you are on me...**

**(*) I have no idea what to call Wy here, so until she gets an official name I'll callin' her Katlyn because I'm a sad little SeaWy shipper with very few ideas for them...TT^TT**


	3. Chapter 3

_Alfred clenched his arms around my shoulders. He was squeezing me so tight, I was sure my inners were close to becoming my outers. I shouldered him away and glowered. Some 'three month anniversary date' this is turning out to be._

_Not that I didn't know Al's motives. A new 'scary' movie came out, and Alfred firmly believed he could sit through it with out shaking and or nearly pissing himself. _

_What a joke he could be. _

_On screen, the main character, a possibly insane woman, walked down the insane asylum halls with a knife clenched tightly in her hands, waiting for the other loonies to come out and attack._

_Alfred shook. His hand moved down and gripped mine tightly. I swear this man had inhuman strength. I winced but he didn't seemed to notice as the little girl from the beginning of the movie who kept popping up and singing stepped behind her, holding an identical knife._

"_I'm not scared. I'm not scared." Alfred repeated to himself. The light went out on the movie and the woman's scream pierced the room. Alfred jumped and, via nearly tackling me, landed on top me. "I'm scared!"_

"_Ack, get off! Get off!" I yelled, pushing against his chest. _

"_Q-quiet, the m-movie's nearly over," he murmured, shaking. I sighed and turned my now side-ways view to the screen._

_The woman sat dazed outside the asylum in a wheelchair. She had a little doll in her lap. The doll strongly resembled the little girl. An orderly came over and leaned down, checking the woman's wrists, which were wrapped. _

_The orderly nodded and left. Slowly, the woman turned the doll over, revealing a string. She pulled the string and the camera began to pan out as that song the little girl was singing came from the doll._

"_So she was insane," I concluded. "And the doll is her, but as a child: since she was abandoned and abused, she put all her emotions aside and that doll is truly how she feels, and she must hate herself or think she is worthless, so her true feels for herself cause her pain, I suppose."_

"_You got all that?" Alfred gasped. "I just know I don't ever wanna go in the loonie bin."_

"_It's not that hard." I muttered. "Now, would you kindly remove yourself from atop me?" He blinked once then smiled broadly and leaned down._

_His breath hit my face. It would have been romantic had it not reeked of popcorn and butter."But you look cute—err, handsome?—from up here. 'Sides, I think I like being on top of you." He leaned in for a kiss, and I moved my head. In his moment of confused, I pushed him onto his back, a quick and perfectly-executed role-reverse. _

_I kissed him and smirked. "Happy anniversary."_

_He paused then laughed, hugging me to his chest. "Happy anniversary!"_

—

Arthur tumbled back, breathing hard. He backed against the wall, trembling. Alfred frowned at the reaction. What the heck? Why was Arthur acting all confused and scared? Then he understood. A smile spread across his face.

"I get it. I scared you, right?" Alfred laughed. "Sorry, Artie. I know I can be pretty intimidate—"

"_Go away." _

"What?" Alfred titled his head; he took a step forward. "I didn't mean to scare you, Arthur, sorry."

"Get away from me! I know you're not real!" Arthur yelled. "Go away! I refuse to let myself go _completely _insane over you!" He knew that was a lie.

To be honest, he was surprised he had made it this far without being thrown in a metal intuition. He could see himself now, sitting in a wheelchair outside, dazed, with a little Alfred-doll and bandages around his wrists.

Alfred's brow furrowed. So maybe he didn't understand at all. Geez, what was wrong? Had he messed up? Forgotten something? Or…

Alfred glanced where Arthur kept his calendar on the wall, but it was gone. Then, he noticed just how much of a disaster the room was, like a tornado path or Alfred's room after football season.

"What happened here?" He looked up then jolted. Arthur was glaring at him. Though that in itself was not unusual, the fact he was glaring through tears was. "Ah, Arthur, what's wrong?" He took a step.

Arthur stole a hurried step back, flinching. "If you're not going to leave, then I'll make you!" Without waiting for a response, Arthur tore out the door.

Alfred let out a cry and ran after him, still confused and a little dazed.

—

Yellow, clear ones, and white, opaque ones, pink and blue and green ones…some in little bottles, some in plastic packages that needed to be popped out…but it was the oval pale blue-green in the orange bottle he was searching for.

Alfred entered the kitchen just as Arthur pushed down the child lock and popped open the pill bottle top. Arthur tapped the bottled against his hand and two little pills tumbled into his hand.

Alfred took a breath.

"Arthur, what are you doing? Put those down!" Alfred dashed for him, but even with his superhuman-like speed, he couldn't make it in time to stop Arthur from swallowing the pills.

Arthur smirked and turned. "There, in about, oh, thirty minutes, you'll disappear."

"Are you crazy? What was that? Are you suppose to take it? Whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry—" Alfred made a move for the bottle from Arthur's hand, but when he went to grip it, his hand phrased straight through.

Alfred stared at his hands in shock.

Wait a minute...

His hands look solid, but, if he looked hard enough, no his hands were solid as a rock! Maybe it was a fluke. Yeah that was it. He just missed the bottle by a little bit. That had to be it.

To prove it to Arthur, he reached for the bottle his boyfriend (they were still dating, right?) set on shelf. He encircled his hand so there was no way he could miss. He squeezed his fingers, and once again, he made no contact.

Arthur grabbed the bottled, his hands passing through Alfred's, and put the cap back on, smirking. "I haven't had to take these since I was a child seeing fairies and unicorns, but it seems their still good enough. It must be all the stress your death put on me that caused my mind to revert back."

"My death?" Alfred echoed. "A-Artie, this isn't funny. I dunno how your making all this happen, but please stop."

"See you," Arthur waved as he exited the kitchen, "or I guess I won't."

—

**Well, that was short and dramatic.**


	4. Chapter 4

_I sat with my knees against my chest, leaning my head against the cool metal of the jungle-gym. It was my first day back, but not just mine, everyone's. I glanced around the play ground. Most people were trying to regain some of the normality they'd lost, playing hopscotch, skipping rope, tag._

_I couldn't see Ivan or his sisters among the children. It wasn't much of a surprise, though, after what their uncle did. _

_A shudder pasted through me. In my mind's eye I could see their uncle kick open the door, half drunk, yelling and screaming about how he had dreams that he couldn't accomplish, not saddle with three brats._

_I winced, still remembering the sound of shots fired into the ceiling echoing through me. Taking a shuddered breath, I swallowed. No, stop, remember, don't think about it! Like the doctors all said, if I don't think about it, it'll be okay, right?_

"_Arthur?"_

_I blinked and looked up. Alfred stood in front of me, wringing his hands together nervously. He had always been a little chubby as a lad, but now he was losing weight at an incredible pace since he joined the baseball team. He still had some fat around his stomach and face, but not for long._

"_What is it?" I growled. _

_Alfred bit his lip then took a breath. "Can I sit next to you, please?" _

"_I don't know, _can_ you?" I didn't know why I was being so mean to him. I didn't really hate him, well, mostly. We have never really gotten along and bickered at the worst of times (though not as much as Francis and I, who bicker with each other just for bickering's sake), but I didn't wish death upon him or anything._

_Alfred plopped down beside me. "I sure can."_

_I opened my mouth to explain it to him, but seeing the smile on his face stopped me. He looked so happy just to be beside me that I couldn't snap at him to leave. I wondered why, pressing my head against the jungle gym again._

_I stiffened when I felt Alfred leaned his head on my back, then relaxed. I focused my eyes on the group of pixies playing just above the heads of some kids playing four-square. The pixies giggled and swooped down to push the ball or distracting the players by pushing down caps or pulling hair. _

_I smiled. No one knew I could see the silly pixies, not even Mummy. I didn't plan on telling anyone either. They would make fun of me and throw things. I glanced back at Alfred, who was watching the same foursquare game—well, maybe not the _same _game. He looked like he was in deep thought. I watched him think for a few moments before he noticed. He turned his cerulean blue eyes to me and smiled, making me blush as I whipped my head away._

_He nuzzled against my back and muttered something I won't know about until years later._

"_Thanks for this, Arthur."_

—

Alfred swiped at the remote. Each and very time his hand went through it without fail. He threw his hands up in frustration. He refuse to except the outrageous claim that he was dead, because he was _not_! He couldn't be dead. He remembered getting up this morning, super early, to…to…

He furrowed his brow in thought. To what again? Something important, very important.

Well, whatever. After he left to do that one super important thing, he must have done it (thought he didn't remember it), because the next thing he knew he was standing on the water tower, dozing. He saw Arthur on the ground and heard him sat his name, jolting Alfred out of whatever daydream he was in.

Arthur walked past with a basket of laundry in his hands whistling.

"Iggy, this is really annoying." Alfred followed behind his boyfriend. "I said I was sorry for whatever I did—and don't expect me to have to know that it was I did wrong. You know I can read the atmosphere!"

Arthur looked at his watch. "Taking longer than I thought for you to disappear."

"I'm not going to disappear," Alfred told him. He was not answered. With a sighed, Alfred slumped against the wall, only to fall into it. He scrambled back to his feet, missing the amused smile on his boyfriend's face.

This delusion was accurate at least.

As Arthur tossed a shirt into the washer, Alfred walked behind him. He spread out his arms like wings then threw them foreword, around Arthur. The other teen jumped as a cold chill rand through him, dropping the boxers he held.

Alfred stared at his arms, which were half through his boyfriend's body. Slowly, he pulled them out and put his hands up against the light. He frowned and looked down at his feet. For the first time, Alfred noticed two things.

First, he wasn't casting a shadow. It was almost like he was air and the light went straight through him. The light still showed the shade on his body, like how the light hit his nose and made a shadow, but not off his body.

Second, and this was the biggest shock, his feet were not touching the ground. He was floating.

Suddenly, believing this was all a prank became very difficult.

"Oh my God…I'm dead."

Arthur turned the washer on. "Yes, you are, and it's been Hell for me." Arthur let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head, leaving Alfred alone.

—

Alfred pulled his knees to his chest, watching Arthur do his homework. The disaster stricken room had been cleaned, and Arthur sat on his bed, scribbling notes over World War II for the test coming up. Whether he actually couldn't see Alfred anymore or was ignoring him, the ghost wasn't sure, so he asked.

Arthur didn't look up from his book.

"Guess you really can't see me." Alfred heaved his shoulders in a sigh. "Great, this is just great. I'm dead, and I'm not even sure how. Man, I bet I went out a cool and heroic like, too. Maybe saving a little kid from a run away bulldozer or something."

Arthur put his pencil behind his ear and shut the book. Enough studying for one night, he decided. He tossed the book onto his bag before reaching for his light. Darkness shrouded the room as Arthur shuffled back. He slipped his pants off and tossed his shirt aside before moving under the covers.

Alfred watched his boyfriend sleep, like he'd done at a million and a half sleepovers, both those their parents knew about and the ones where one of them—usually Alfred—sneaked through the window.

"Hey, Arthur, you really can't see or hear me, right?" Alfred asked loudly. When his boyfriend didn't stir, he crawled over, praying he didn't phrase through the bed, and laid down beside him atop the covers. He reached out his hand towards Arthur but paused a moment. He hand would just go through his cheek won't it?

"It doesn't matter." Alfred whispered, lowing his hand to Arthur's cheek, and he held it there, just barely touching until morning.

—

"Hmm?" Arthur peeked open his eyes. He jolted up right, half-swallowing a cry. "What are you still doing here?"

Alfred pushed himself up, smiling. "You can see me again!"

"Not for long," Arthur growled, throwing off his covers and marching over to his dresser. With a smirk, Alfred let out a wolf whistle.

"I think you should take the clothes you have one off first, and maybe leave them off for a while." His voice was annoyingly coy. "I won't mind."

"You're not real; we are not have having sex; and I am going school." Arthur glared over his shoulder, buttoning his pants.

Alfred jumped to his feet and shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "I never said 'sex.' It is so wrong of me to want see my boyfriend's cute—ah, _handsome_—body?" He bent his spine so his head was nearly perched on Arthur's shoulder, making Arthur blush.

"I really must be a narcissistic pervert to have my delusion say such a thing," He gritted his teeth, vowing never to spend more than an hour with Francis or his friends ever again. He shouldered his bag and headed out the door with Alfred on his tail.

Peter looked up as his brother entered the kitchen. The boy furrowed his brow. Behind his big brother was a…a…blob, or something like a blob. He wasn't sure what it was, but the air seemed to be thicker, like there was something there.

The sound of the medicine cabinet door opening turned Peter's head. "What are getting in there, Jerk-thur?"

"Aspirin. headache." Arthur grumbled.

Peter leaned forward too look at the bottle Arthur had. "That's not aspirin. Arthur-jerk, are you seeing fairies again?"

Arthur glanced back towards Alfred, who smiled and waved, then shrugged. "Something like that." Reaching into his bag he walked over to his brother and slapped a five dollar bill onto the table. "Don't tell Mum, and I'll give you another one of these when I get it, ok?"

Peter picked up the bill and looked at it. "Will Mum be mad that you are seeing dragons and unicorns again?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I don't want to go to the therapist, that's all. I'll tell Mum in my own time, you just keep your mouth shut, okay?"

Peter bobbed his head, zipping his lips shut.

Peter watched his brother and the blob leave before pocketing the money. Suddenly, the boy felt his stomach twist.

Had he made a mistake?

—

Lukas yawned, leaning against the locker. Stupid Matthias, keeping him up all night. He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder. Stupid Matthias, making him have to wear a turtleneck to hide the dang hickey. A groan escaped his lips. Stupid, horny, Matthias.

Thankfully, a well aimed smack to the back of head was enough to remind Matthias that, in fact, Lukas was no where near in the mood for any deep physical intimacy when they had a huge test the next morning. They were suppose to be studying, anyway.

The temperature in the hall seemed to drop enough that Lukas could feel it through his sweater. Everyone began to rubbed his or her shoulders. A few of the ornery boys yelled about the school freezing everyone to death.

Lukas raised his head and looked around.

He froze, but not from the cold.

—

Arthur twiddled his thumbs. The test he had been studying for was an easy true-false and one essay question test. If he didn't pass, then he was a truly just stupid. It was that easy.

A small square of paper landed on Arthur's desk with his name on it. He looked around and saw Lukas turned around in his seat, staring at him intently. Arthur raised an oversized eyebrow and glanced at the teacher. She was too deeply engrossed in her book to care.

Arthur unfolded the paper.

"_Arthur_

_ There is a ghost behind you, you know that right?"_

Arthur's whole body stiffened and his breath silently caught in his throat. He took a breath to calm himself, pulled his pen out and scribbled back his response with an irritable look on his face.

Lukas's desk was too far to toss the note.

When they were younger, the two of them and the Romanian kid, Vlad, back before Vlad moved, would have their little 'fairies' and 'trolls' sneak the notes to each other. The teachers would try and move them to different corners and still the notes would make it from point A to point B with no more than two hands touching the note.

Of course, Arthur knew there weren't any fairies or trolls, and they must have just sneaked over to each other's desk or passed it through the network of students between them.

Though, he did not remember ever doing either of those.

Arthur raised his hand and cleared his throat. The teacher look up. "May I use the restroom? I'm finished."

"Yes, yes, go a head, but hurry back." She said, returning to her book. He stood and headed for the door. As he passed Lukas' desk, the other teen slipped the note on top of Lukas over-turned test.

Lukas watched the ex-occult club member leave before opening the note.

"_Arthur_

_ There is a ghost behind you, you know that right?_

_Lukas,_

_ Ha-ha-ha! Did you forget to take your pills this morning? There are no such thing as ghosts, so don't tell me I'm being stalked by one—because I am NOT. You know I only joined to occult club out of boredom!"_

He winced at the harsh words. When they were children, they use to discuss and play with their magical friends all the time. After fifth grade though, and they both were put into therapy and their secret escaped, both boys as well as Vlad had to start taking anti-physic meds everyday.

For the first weeks, all three took them piously, then as life became dull and colorless without them, Lukas started to spit the pills out as soon as his mother was not looking, as with Vlad. It was only Arthur who lost his 'sight' from taking the pills. Though, through the years they spent in the occult club together, Lukas had a firm theory that Arthur was forcing himself _not_ to see the fairies and flying rabbit that followed behind him like a shadow. Or he was lying, one of the two.

Lukas sighed and leaned back in his chair, covering his eyes with his hands. What was he going to do? He couldn't just leave Arthur with a ghost following him around. Well, he _could_ quite easily, but after everything that had happened to the Arthur, that was probably one of the worse courses of action.

He felt something fuzzy touch his hand. He moved his hand and saw his troll looking down at him. He sat up and the troll floated over to his ear and whispered. Lukas nodded.

"Teacher, I'm going to the rest room." He announced and left before the teacher could speak—not that she cared

He strolled out and looked around. Making his way to the lockers, Lukas paused. He glanced around once then turned.

"So, how's it going, Alfred?"

Then ghost jolted, looking down from his spot floating above the lockers. He stared at him for a long moment then pointed at his chest. "You can see me?"

"No, I'm talking to the air." He snorted, petting his troll's head. Seeing Alfred's confused face, Lukas sighed. "Yes, I can."

"That's a relief. I was starting to think I really was a part of Arthur's imagination." The ghost laughed, but it slowly died out when the other male didn't join in. "I guess that does mean I'm a ghost, doesn't it?"

"Yes, you are." Lukas leaned back and pinched his chin. "Though I have to wonder why you are hanging around Arthur. I know you two were sort of friends, but, really why him? Unless, is he 'A'?"

"'A'?" Alfred raised an eye. "What now?"

Lukas furrowed his brow in thought then nodded with realization. How could he forgot? Ghosts that died in such circumstances as Alfred tend not to remember their deaths, too dramatic, too sudden.

Lukas pushed off the lockers and started to walk away. He waved his hand in a 'follow-me' gesture. Alfred nodded, floating behind the living student.

—

**I do love writing characters like Lukas—thought he might be a tad ooc... Anyway, Yeah, DenNor~ Love-hate-love relationships are fun for me to write too~ Whether I do them well or not, it not my concern. (And yes, here he's part of the occult club too! Yeah Magic Trio!)**


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